Georgina Swan: Edward Cullen love story
by HPRANGER4EVER
Summary: Isabella and Georgina Swan had spent most of their lives in Phoenix. But when they move from the one of the sunniest to one of the rainiest parts on the planet, their lives change forever. One falls in love with a werewolf and the other a vampire, two species that are enemies. Will this create a rift between the twins and will it ever end?


**Chapter description:**

_Isabelle and Georgina Swan have lived with their mum and their stepfather Phil ever since their parents divorce. But now to allow their mother some travel time they have decided to move in with their father Charlie. This means a new school, in the middle of the school year, and time to make new friends. On their first day at their home, they meet Jacob Black who takes an immediate interest in Bella. Then their first day at school they meet the Cullens. Georgia's interest in Edward grows when he seems to have a problem with her. Will she find out what that problem is?_

***Twilight: Georgina Swan***

Georgia's POV:

My mother drives Bella and I to the airport with the windows rolled down. Like it usually is in Phoenix it's It  
Phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I was wearing my favourite shirt —red sleeveless and in my carry-on bag, I have my black jacket, prepared for Forks.

Forks exists under a near-constant cover of clouds. It rains in this inconsequential town more than any other place in the United States of America. It was from this town and its gloomy, omnipresent shade that my mother  
escaped with Bella and I when we were only a few months old.

Every summer up until a few years ago, Bella and I had spent some time in Forks. But then we'd had enough and dad had to come and visit us instead.

It was to Forks that we were unfourtanetly heading to live. We both hated Forks. But it was in our mum's interest that we are going.

Phoenix, in all its blistering heat, was my favourite place to live. Beaches, sun and sitting outside all day.

"Bella, Georgia," my mom said to us — the last of a thousand times — before we got on the plane. "You don't have to do this."

My mom looks like Bella except with short hair and laugh lines. Part of me wanted to beg her to let us stay, that I changed my mind and don't want to leave her. But that would be in my best interest and not hers.

"We want to go," I lied. I'd always been a bad liar, both Bella and I are, but I'd been saying this lie so frequently lately that it sounded almost convincing now.

"Tell Charlie I said hi."

"We will."

"I'll see you soon," she insisted. "You can come home whenever you want — I'll come right back as soon as you need me."

But I could see the sacrifice in her eyes behind the promise.

"Don't worry about us," Bella urged. "It'll be great. I love you, Mom."

She hugged me tightly for a minute, and then we got on the plane, and she was gone.

***Twilight: Georgina Swan***

It's a four-hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then an hour drive back down to Forks. Flying doesn't bother me;

the hour in the car with Charlie, though, I was a little worried about. Charlie is okay but things can get a bit awkward.

Charlie had really been fairly nice about the whole thing. He seemed genuinely pleased that we are coming to live with him for the first time with any degree of permanence. He'd already gotten us both registered for high school and was going to help the two of us get a car to share.

The problem is none of us are what anyone would call verbose, and I didn't know what there was to say regardless. Charlie is confused by our decision, he probably thought we'd change our mind. Part of me wish I had.

When we landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. I didn't see it as an omen — just unavoidable. I'd already said my goodbyes to the sun. We probably wouldn't see it for a while.

Charlie was waiting for us with the cruiser. This I was expecting, too. Charlie is Police Chief Swan to the good people of Forks. Mine and Bella's primary motivation behind buying a car, despite the scarcity of our joint funds, was that both of us refused to be driven around town in a car with red and blue lights on top. Nothing slows down traffic like a cop.

Charlie gave us both an awkward, one-armed hug when we stumbled our way off of the plane and towards him.

"It's good to see you, Bells, Georgia," he said, smiling as he automatically caught and steadied me. "You two haven't  
changed much. How's Renée?"

"Mom's fine. It's good to see you, too, Dad." Bella tells him.

"Yeah it's been a while," I agree as we place our stuff into the trunk of the cruiser.

"I found a good car for you two, really cheap," he announced when we were strapped in.

"What kind of car?" Bella asks and I know that she like me wonders if what Charlie finds a good car, we would.

"Well, it's a truck actually, a Chevy."

"Where did you find it?" I ask him still suspicious and I share a look with my twin.

"Do you remember Billy Black down at La Push?" La Push is the tiny Indian reservation on the coast.

"No," Bella and I both say not having many memories of Forks... at least not any good ones that we had the urge to remember.

"He used to go fishing with us during the summer," Charlie prompted.

That would explain why we didn't remember him. Both of us hate fishing so we try to forget the times that Charlie forced us to go on as we couldn't stay by ourselves.

"He's in a wheelchair now," Charlie continued when neither Bella or I respond, "so he can't drive anymore, and he offered to sell me his truck cheap."

"What year is it?" Bella asks and I could see from his change of expression that this was the question he was hoping we wouldn't ask.

"Well, Billy's done a lot of work on the engine — it's only a few years old, really."

I knew that Bella would not give up so easily. "When did he buy it?"

"He bought it in 1984, I think."

"Did he buy it new?" I asked still worried how well this truck would work.

"Well, no. I think it was new in the early sixties — or late fifties at the earliest," he admitted sheepishly.

"Ch — Dad, we don't really know anything about cars. neither of us would be able to fix it if anything went wrong, and between us, we couldn't afford a mechanic…"

"Really, you two, the thing runs great. They don't build them like that anymore."

The thing, I thought to myself… it had possibilities — as a nickname, at the very least. Bella glances at me again and I shrug.

"How cheap is cheap?" Bella asks knowing we only have a small budget.

"Well, honey, I kind of already bought it for you both. As a homecoming gift." Charlie peeked sideways at us with a hopeful expression.

Wow. Free. The money we saved we can save for college, or things we need.

"You didn't need to do that, Dad. we were going to buy ourselves a car," I tell him feeling a little guilty

"I don't mind. I want you to be happy here," He was looking ahead at the road when he said this. Charlie wasn't comfortable with expressing his emotions out loud. Bella inherited that from him. She looked ahead.

"That's really nice, Dad. Thanks. I really appreciate it." No need to add that my being happy in Forks is an impossibility. He didn't need to suffer along with me. And I never looked a free truck in the mouth —or engine.

"Well, now, you're welcome," he mumbled, embarrassed by my thanks.

We exchanged a few more comments on the weather, which was wet, and that was pretty much it for Conversation. We all stared out the windows in silence.

It was beautiful, of course; I couldn't deny that. Everything was green: the trees, their trunks covered with moss, their branches hanging with a canopy of it, the ground covered with ferns. Even the air filtered down greenly through the leaves. It was too green — an alien planet.

***Twilight: Georgina Swan***

Eventually, we made it to Charlie's. He still lived in the small, two-bedroom house that he'd bought with  
our mother in the early days of their marriage

. Those were the only kind of days their marriage had — the early ones. There, parked on the street in front of the house that never changed, was mine and Bella's new — well, new to us — truck. It was a faded red colour, with big, rounded fenders and a bulbous cab. To my intense surprise, I loved it. I didn't know if it would run, but I could see myself in it. Plus, it was one of those solid iron affairs that never gets damaged — the kind you see at the scene of an accident, paint unscratched, surrounded by the pieces of the foreign car it had destroyed.

"Wow, Dad, I love it! Thanks!" Now my horrific day tomorrow would be just that much less dreadful.

We wouldn't be faced with the choice of either walking two miles in the rain to school or accepting a ride in the Chief's cruiser.

"I'm glad you like it," Charlie said gruffly, embarrassed again It took only one trip to get all of our stuff upstairs. Bella and I got the west bedroom that faced out over the front yard.

The room was familiar; it had belonged to us since were born. The wooden floor, the light blue walls, the peaked ceiling, the yellowed lace curtains around the window — these were all a part of our childhood. The only changes Charlie had ever made were switching the cribs for two beds and adding a desk as we grew. The desk now held a secondhand computer, with the phone line for the modem stapled along the floor to the nearest phone jack. This was a stipulation from our mother so that we could stay in touch easily. The rocking chair from our baby days was still in the corner.

There was only one small bathroom at the top of the stairs, which we would have to share with Charlie. I personally was trying not to dwell too much on that fact.

One of the best things about Charlie is he doesn't hover. He left us alone to unpack and get settled, a feat that would have been altogether impossible for our mother. It was nice to be alone, not to have to smile and look pleased; a relief to stare dejectedly out the window at the sheeting rain and let just a few tears escape. I wasn't in the mood to go on a real crying jag. I would save that for bedtime, when I would have to think about the coming morning.

Forks High School had a frightening total of only three hundred and fifty-seven — now fifty-nine — students; there were more than seven hundred people in our junior class alone back home. All of the kids here had grown up together — their grandparents had been toddlers together. Bella and I would be the centre of attention as the new girls tomorrow.

It would help if both of us weren't so pale. If we had tans. Well, I had a slight tan.

But Bella is ivory-skinned, without even the excuse of blue eyes or red hair, despite the constant sunshine. We had always been slender, but soft somehow, obviously not an athlete; we didn't have the necessary hand-eye coordination to play sports without humiliating both ourself and each other. Oh and others around us.

When I finished putting my clothes in the old pine dresser, (I had the two bottom draws and Bella the top ones) I took my bag of bathroom necessities and went to the communal bathroom to clean myself up after the day of travel. I looked at my face in the mirror as I brushed through my tangled, damp hair. Maybe it was the light, but already I looked sallower, unhealthy. My skin could be pretty — it was very clear, almost translucent-looking — but it all depended on color. I had no color here.

Facing my pallid reflection in the mirror, I was forced to admit that I was lying to myself. It wasn't just physically that I'd never fit in. And if I couldn't find a niche in a school with three thousand people, what were my chances here?

***Twilight: Georgina Swan***

I didn't sleep well that night, even after I was done crying. Bella was also crying but neither of us said anything. The constant whooshing of the rain and wind across the roof wouldn't fade into the background. I pulled the faded old quilt over my head and later added the pillow, too. But I couldn't fall asleep until after midnight when the rain finally settled into a quieter drizzle.

Thick fog was all I could see out my window in the morning and I sighed at Bella. She gives me a small smile, probably feeling the same.

Breakfast with Charlie was a quiet event. He wished us good luck at school. I thanked him, knowing his hope was wasted. Good luck tended to avoid Bella and I.

Charlie left first, off to the police station that was his wife and family. After he left, we sat at the old square oak table in one of the three unmatching chairs and examined his small kitchen, with its dark panelled walls, bright yellow cabinets, and white linoleum floor. Neither of us said anything.

Nothing was changed. My mother had painted the cabinets eighteen years ago in an attempt to bring some sunshine into the house. Over the small fireplace in the adjoining handkerchief-sized family room was a row of pictures. First a wedding picture of Charlie and my mom in Las Vegas, then one of the four of us in the hospital after Bella and I was born, taken by a helpful nurse, followed by the procession of school pictures up to last year's. Those were embarrassing to look at — I would have to see what I could do to get Charlie to put them somewhere else, at least while I was living here. It was impossible, being in this house, not to realize that Charlie had never gotten over our mom. It made me uncomfortable.

I didn't want to be too early to school, but I couldn't stay in the house anymore. Luckily Bella agreed so I donned my jacket — which had the feel of a biohazard suit — and headed out into the rain with Bella following behind me.

We decided we'd take it in turns two drove to school. Today it's Bella's turn.

It was just drizzling still, not enough to soak us through immediately as I reached for the house key that was always hidden under the eaves by the door, and locked up. The sloshing of my new waterproof boots was unnerving. I missed the normal crunch of gravel as I walked. I couldn't pause and admire my truck again as I wanted; we are in a hurry to get out of the misty wet that swirled around our heads and clung to our hair.

Inside the truck, it was nice and dry. Either Billy or Charlie had obviously cleaned it up, but the tan upholstered seats still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline, and peppermint. The engine started quickly, to our relief, but loudly, roaring to life and then idling at top volume. Well, a truck this old was bound to have a flaw. The antique radio worked, a plus that I hadn't expected.

***Twilight: Georgina Swan***

Finding the school wasn't difficult, though we'd never been there before. Bella drove this truck quite well. The school was, like most other things, just off the highway. It was not obvious that it was a school; only the sign, which declared it to be the Forks High School, made Bella stop. It looked like a collection of matching houses, built with maroon-coloured bricks. There were so many trees and shrubs I couldn't see its size at first. Where was the feel of the institution? I wondered nostalgically. Where were the chain-link fences, the metal detectors?

Bella parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the door reading front office. No one else was parked there, so I was sure it was off limits, but Bella decided we would get directions inside instead of circling around in the rain like an idiot.

"Okay," I say smiling at her and she gives me a small one in return. "You ready?"

"No," she says making me laugh. "But let's do it anyway!"

We stepped unwillingly out of the toasty truck cab and walked down a little stone path lined with dark hedges. I glanced at Bella and we both took a deep breath before I opened the door.

Inside, it was brightly lit and warmer than I'd hoped. The office was small; a little waiting area with padded folding chairs, orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, a big clock ticking loudly. Plants grew everywhere in large plastic pots as if there wasn't enough greenery outside. The room was cut in half by a long counter, cluttered with wire baskets full of papers and brightly coloured flyers taped to its front. There were three desks behind the counter, one of which was manned by a large, red-haired woman wearing glasses. She was wearing a purple t-shirt, which immediately made me feel overdressed.

The red-haired woman looked up. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Isabella Swan and this is Georgina my twin," Bella informed her and we saw the immediate awareness light her eyes. both of us was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt. Daughters of the Chief's flighty ex-wife, come home at last.

"Of course," she said. She dug through a precariously stacked pile of documents on her desk till she found the ones she was looking for. "I have your schedules right here, and a map of the school." She brought several sheets to the counter to show us.

She went through our classes, which for some reason are all the same, no doubt Charlie's doing. Then she began highlighting the best route to each on the map, and gave us each a slip to have each teacher sign, which we were to bring back at the end of the day. She smiled at us and hoped, like Charlie, that we would like it here in Forks. The two of us smiled back as convincingly as I could.

When we went back out to our truck, other students were starting to arrive. Bella drove us around the school, following the line of traffic. I was glad to see that most of the cars were older like ours, nothing flashy. We didn't want to be the odd ones out.

The nicest car here was a shiny Volvo, and it stood out. Bella picked a spot and parked our car.

After glancing at our maps, taking a long deep breath, glance at each other again we finally get out of our truck.

I kept my face pulled back into my hood as we walked to the sidewalk, crowded with teenagers. My plain black jacket didn't stand out, I noticed with relief. Bella also had gone black but hers had little flecks of dark blue. We needed to get to building three which from what I remember from my map is near the cafeteria.

Once we got around the cafeteria, building three was easy to spot. A large black "3" was painted on a white square on the east corner. I felt my breathing gradually creeping toward hyperventilation as we approached the door. I tried holding my breath as we followed two unisex raincoats through the door.

The classroom was small. The people in front of me stopped just inside the door to hang up their coats  
on a long row of hooks. Bella and I copied them. They were two girls, one a porcelain-coloured blonde, the other  
also pale, with light brown hair. At least my skin wouldn't be a standout here.

Bella and I took our slips up to the teacher, a tall, balding man whose desk had a nameplate identifying him as Mr Mason. He gawked at us when he saw our names — not an encouraging response — and of course Bella  
flushed tomato red, I just seemed to get paler. But at least he sent us both to an empty desk at the back without introducing us to the class. It was harder for my new classmates to stare at us in the back, but somehow, they managed.

I kept my eyes down on the reading list the teacher had given me. It was fairly basic: Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner. We'd already read everything. That was comforting… and boring. I wondered if mom would send me my folder of old essays, or if she would think that was cheating. I went through  
different arguments with her in my head while the teacher droned on.

When the bell rang, a nasal buzzing sound, a gangly boy with skin problems and hair black as an oil slick leaned across the aisle to talk to me.

"You're Isabella and Georgina Swan, aren't you?" He looked like the overly helpful, chess club type, I probably looked like that sometimes in my old school.

"Georgia and Bella," I corrected. Everyone within a three-seat radius turned to look at us and I looked.

"Where's your next class?" he asked us and I glanced at Bella.

She had to check her bag. "Um, Government, with Jefferson, in building six."

There was nowhere to look without meeting curious eyes. It was a little annoying. I am a person who hates being the centre of attention... even more than my twin.

"I'm headed toward building four, I could show you the way…" Definitely over-helpful. "I'm Eric," he  
added.

I smiled tentatively. "Thanks."

Bella repeated my words. We got our jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up. I could have sworn several people behind us were walking close enough to eavesdrop. I hoped I wasn't getting paranoid.

"So, this is a lot different than Phoenix, huh?" he asked us both and I cannot help but chuckle.

"Very."

"It doesn't rain much there, does it?"

"Three or four times a year," Bella answers and I nod in agreement.

"Wow, what must that be like?" he wondered.

"Sunny," I told him.

"You don't look very tan."

"My mother is part albino."

He studied my face apprehensively, and I sighed. It looked like clouds and a sense of humour didn't mix. This was going to get old very quickly.

We walked back around the cafeteria, to the south buildings by the gym. Eric walked us right to the door, though it was clearly marked.

"Well, good luck," he said as I touched the handle. "Maybe we'll have some other classes together."

He sounded hopeful.

We smiled at him vaguely and went inside.

The rest of the morning passed in about the same fashion. My Trigonometry teacher, Mr Varner, who I would have hated anyway just because of the subject he taught, was the only one who made us stand in front of the class and introduce ourselves. We stammered, blushed, and tripped over our own boots on the way to our seats, which unluckily were not together this time around.

After two classes, we started to recognize several of the faces in each class. There was always someone braver than the others who would introduce themselves and ask us questions about how we were liking Forks. We tried to be diplomatic, but mostly we just lied a lot. At least we never needed the map.

***Twilight: Georgina Swan***

One girl sat next to Bella in both Trig and Spanish, and she walked with us both to the cafeteria for lunch.

She was tiny, several inches shorter than my five feet four inches, but her wildly curly dark hair made up a lot of the difference between our heights. Bella forgot her name before she could tell me so we smiled at her and thanked her for helping us around.

We sat at the end of a full table with several of her friends, who she introduced to me. I forgot all their names as soon as she spoke them. They seemed impressed by her bravery in speaking to us. The boy from English, Eric, waved at both of us from across the room. It was there, sitting in the lunchroom, trying to make conversation with seven curious strangers, that I first saw them.

They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, as far away from where I sat as possible in the long room.

There were five of them. They weren't talking, and they weren't eating, though they each had a tray of untouched food in front of them. They weren't gawking at us, unlike most of the other students, so it was safe to stare at them without fear of meeting an excessively interested pair of eyes. But it was none of these things that caught, and held, my attention.

They didn't look anything alike. Of the three boys, one was big — muscled like a serious weight lifter with dark, curly hair. Another was taller, leaner, but still muscular, and honey blond. The last was lanky, less bulky, with untidy, bronze-coloured hair. He was more boyish than the others, who looked like they could be in college, or even teachers here rather than students.

The girls were opposites. The tall one was statuesque. She had a beautiful figure, the kind you saw on the cover of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue, the kind that made every girl around her take a hit on her self-esteem just by being in the same room. Her hair was golden, gently waving to the middle of her back. The short girl was pixielike, thin in the extreme, with small features. Her hair was a deep black, cropped short and pointing in every direction.

And yet, they were all exactly alike. Every one of them was chalky pale, the palest of all the students living in this sunless town. Paler than Bella, the albino. They all had very dark eyes despite the range in hair tones. They also had dark shadows under those eyes — purplish, bruiselike shadows. As if they were all suffering from a sleepless night, or almost done recovering from a broken nose. Though their noses, all their features, were straight, perfect, angular. But all this is not why I couldn't look away. I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful. They were faces you never expected to see except perhaps on the airbrushed pages of a fashion magazine. Or painted by an old master as the face of an angel. It was hard to decide who was the most beautiful — maybe the perfect blond girl, or the bronze-haired boy.

They were all looking away — away from each other, away from the other students, away from anything in particular as far as I could tell. As I watched, the small girl rose with her tray — unopened soda, unbitten apple — and walked away with a quick, graceful lope that belonged on a runway. I watched, amazed at her lithe dancer's step, till she dumped her tray and glided through the back door, faster than I would have thought possible. My eyes darted back to the others, who sat unchanging.

"Who are they?" I asked the girl from Bella's Spanish class, whose name she'd forgotten.

As she looked up to see who I meant — though already knowing, probably, from my tone — suddenly he looked at her, the thinner one, the boyish one, the youngest, perhaps. He looked at my neighbour for just a fraction of a second, and then his dark eyes flickered to mine. He glanced at Bella for a second before his eyes shifted to mine again.

He looked away quickly, more quickly than I could, though in a flush of embarrassment I dropped my eyes at once. In that brief flash of a glance, his face held nothing of interest — it was as if she had called his name, and he'd looked up in involuntary response, already having decided not to answer.

My neighbour giggled in embarrassment, looking at the table like I did.

"That's Edward and Emmett Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen; they all live together with Dr Cullen and his wife." She said this under her breath.

The conversation caught Bella's attention and she looked at the family, she seemed interested but not as interested as me. When she looked back at me she smiled weirdly.

I glanced sideways at the beautiful boy, who was looking at his tray now, picking a bagel to pieces with long, pale fingers. His mouth was moving very quickly, his perfect lips barely opening. The other three still looked away, and yet I felt he was speaking quietly to them.

Strange, unpopular names, I thought. The kinds of names grandparents had. But maybe that was in vogue here — small town names?

"Her names Jessica," Bella whispered to me and I am glad she remembered so I finally know her name.

"They are… very nice-looking." I struggled with the conspicuous understatement and Bella fights off a giggle as she nods in agreement.

"Yes!" Jessica agreed with another giggle. "They're all together though — Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, I mean. And they live together." Her voice held all the shock and condemnation of the small town, I thought critically. But, if I was being honest, I had to admit that even in Phoenix, it would cause gossip.

"Which ones are the Cullens?" Bella asks and I know exactly why she asked this. "They don't look related…"

"Oh, they're not. Dr Cullen is really young, in his twenties or early thirties. They're all adopted. The Hales are brother and sister, twins — the blondes — and they're foster children."

"They look a little old for foster children," I point out as they both look to be late teens early twenties.

"They are now, Jasper and Rosalie are both eighteen, but they've been with Mrs Cullen since they were eight. She's their aunt or something like that."

"That's really kind of nice — for them to take care of all those kids like that when they're so young and everything," Bella says and I nod in agreement.

"I guess so," Jessica admitted reluctantly, and I got the impression that she didn't like the doctor and his wife for some reason. With the glances she was throwing at their adopted children, I would presume the reason was jealousy. "I think that Mrs Cullen can't have any kids, though," she added as if that lessened their kindness.

Throughout this conversation, my eyes flickered again and again to the table where the strange family sat. They continued to look at the walls and not eat.

"Have they always lived in Forks?" Bella asked. Surely we would have noticed them on one of our summers here.

"No," she said in a voice that implied it should be obvious, even to a new arrival like Bella and I. "They just  
moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska."

I felt a surge of pity, and relief. Pity because, as beautiful as they were, they were outsiders, clearly not accepted. Relief that we weren't the only newcomers here, and certainly not the most interesting by any standard.

As I examined them, the youngest, one of the Cullens, looked up and met my gaze, this time with evident curiosity in his expression. As I looked swiftly away, it seemed to me that his glance held some kind of unmet expectation.

"Which one is the boy with the reddish-brown hair?" I asked. I peeked at him from the corner of my eye, and he was still staring at me, but not gawking like the other students had today — he had a slightly frustrated expression. I looked down again.

Bella glanced as well and she seems to frown. Maybe she noticed the look on Edward's face as he had his eyes on me.

"That's Edward. He's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him." She sniffed, a clear case of sour grapes. I wondered when he'd turned her down.

I bit my lip to hide my smile. Then I glanced at him again. His face was turned away, but I thought his cheek appeared lifted, as if he were smiling, too. He glanced at Bella and then me again. He had the same look for both of us.

After a few more minutes, the four of them left the table together. They all were noticeably graceful —even the big, brawny one. It was unsettling to watch. The one named Edward didn't look at me again.

We sat at the table with Jessica and her friends longer than we would have if we'd been sitting alone. we are both anxious not to be late for class on our first day.

***Twilight: Georgina Swan***

One of my new acquaintances, who considerately reminded Bella and I that her name is Angela, had Biology II with me the next hour. This is one of the only classes Bella and I do not have together. We walked to class together in silence. She was shy, too.

When we entered the classroom, Angela went to sit at a black-topped lab table exactly like the ones I was used to. She already had a neighbour. In fact, all the tables were filled but one. Next to the centre aisle, I recognized Edward Cullen by his unusual hair, sitting next to that single open seat.

As I walked down the aisle to introduce myself to the teacher and get my slip signed, I was watching him surreptitiously. Just as I passed, he suddenly went rigid in his seat. He stared at me again, meeting my eyes with the strangest expression on his face — it was hostile, furious. I looked away quickly, shocked, going red again. I stumbled over a book in the walkway and had to catch myself on the edge of a table.

The girl sitting there giggled.

What was this guys problem? What had I done to him?

I'd noticed that his eyes were black — coal black.

Mr Banner signed my slip and handed me a book with no-nonsense about introductions. I could tell we were going to get along. Of course, he had no choice but to send me to the one open seat in the middle of the room. I kept my eyes down as I went to sit by him, bewildered by the antagonistic stare he'd given me.

I didn't look up as I set my book on the table and took my seat, but I saw his posture change from the corner of my eye. He was leaning away from me, sitting on the extreme edge of his chair and averting his face like he smelled something bad. Inconspicuously, I sniffed my hair. It smelled like strawberries, the scent of my favourite shampoo. It seemed an innocent enough odour. I let my hair fall over my right shoulder, making a dark curtain between us and tried to pay attention to the teacher.

Unfortunately, the lecture was on cellular anatomy, something I'd already studied. I took notes carefully anyway, always looking down.

I couldn't stop myself from peeking occasionally through the screen of my hair at the strange boy next to me. During the whole class, he never relaxed his stiff position on the edge of his chair, sitting as far from me as possible. I could see his hand on his left leg was clenched into a fist, tendons standing out under his pale skin. This, too, he never relaxed. He had the long sleeves of his white shirt pushed up to his elbows, and his forearm was surprisingly hard and muscular beneath his light skin. He wasn't nearly as slight as he'd looked next to his burly brother.

The class seemed to drag on longer than the others. Was it because the day was finally coming to a close, or because I was waiting for his tight fist to loosen? It never did; he continued to sit so still it looked like he wasn't breathing. What was wrong with him? Was this his normal behaviour? I questioned my judgment on Jessica's bitterness at lunch today. Maybe she was not as resentful as I'd thought. It couldn't have anything to do with me. He didn't know me from Eve.

I peeked up at him one more time, and regretted it. He was glaring down at me again, his black eyes full of revulsion. As I flinched away from him, shrinking against my chair, the phrase if looks could kill suddenly ran through my mind.

At that moment, the bell rang loudly, making me jump, and Edward Cullen was out of his seat. Fluidly he rose — he was much taller than I'd thought — his back to me, and he was out the door before anyone else was out of their seat.

I sat frozen in my seat, staring blankly after him. He was so mean. It wasn't fair. I began gathering up my things slowly, trying to block the anger that filled me, for fear my eyes would tear up. For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my tear ducts. I usually cried when I was angry, a humiliating tendency.

"Aren't you Isabella Swan? Or Georgina Swan?" a male voice asked.

I looked up to see a cute, baby-faced boy, his pale blond hair carefully gelled into orderly spikes, smiling at me in a friendly way. He obviously didn't think I smelled bad.

"Georgia," I corrected him, with a smile.

"I'm Mike."

"Hi, Mike," I reply gently.

"Do you need any help finding your next class?"

"I'm headed to the gym, actually. I think I can find it."

"That's my next class, too." He seemed thrilled, though it wasn't that big of a coincidence in a school this small.

We walked to class together; he was a chatterer — he supplied most of the conversation, which made it easy for me. He'd lived in California till he was ten, so he knew how I felt about the sun. It turned out he was in my English class also. He was the nicest person I'd met today.

But as we were entering the gym, he asked, "So, did you stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what? I've never seen him act like that."

I cringed. So I wasn't the only one who had noticed. And, apparently, that wasn't Edward Cullen's usual behaviour. I decided to play dumb.

"Was that the boy I sat next to in Biology?" I asked artlessly.

"Yes," he said. "He looked like he was in pain or something."

"I don't know," I responded. "I never spoke to him."

"He's a weird guy." Mike lingered by me instead of heading to the dressing room. "If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you."

I smiled at him before walking through the girls' locker room door. He was friendly and clearly admiring.

But it wasn't enough to ease my irritation. I met Bella as we went inside the locker room.

***Twilight: Georgina Swan***

The Gym teacher, Coach Clapp, found us both a uniform but didn't make us dress down for today's class. At home, only two years of P.E. were required. Here, P.E. was mandatory all four years. Forks was literally my personal hell on Earth.

I watched four volleyball games running simultaneously. Remembering how many injuries I had sustained— and inflicted — playing volleyball, I felt faintly nauseated. Bella did not look much better.

The final bell rang at last.

Bella and I walked slowly towards the office to turn in our paperwork.

Edward Cullen stood at the desk in front of us. I recognized again that tousled bronze hair. He didn't appear to notice the sound of my entrance. I stood pressed against the back wall, waiting for the receptionist to be free.

He was arguing with her in a low, attractive voice. I quickly picked up the gist of the argument. He was trying to trade from sixth-hour Biology to another time — any other time. Bella noticed my rigid look and a frown appeared on her face again. But I don't want her to think I am being paranoid.

I just couldn't believe that this was about me. It had to be something else, something that happened before I entered the Biology room. The look on his face must have been about another aggravation entirely. It was impossible that this stranger could take such a sudden, intense dislike to me.

The door opened again, and the cold wind suddenly gusted through the room, rustling the papers on the  
desk, swirling my hair around my face. The girl who came in merely stepped to the desk, placed a note in the wire basket, and walked out again. But Edward Cullen's back stiffened, and he turned slowly to glare at me — his face was absurdly handsome — with piercing, hate-filled eyes. For an instant, I felt a thrill of genuine fear, raising the hair on my arms. The look only lasted a second, but it chilled me more than the freezing wind. He turned back to the receptionist.

Bella glared at him.

"Never mind, then," he said hastily in a voice like velvet. "I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help."

And he turned on his heel without another look at me and disappeared out the door.

Bella turned to me. "What was that about?"

I shrugged trying to hide the look of fear on my face. She led me to the desk. After Bella passes her slip to the woman I do the same.

"How did your first day go, dears?" the receptionist asked maternally.

"Fine," I lied, my voice weak. She didn't look convinced but Bella nodded more convincingly.

When we got to the truck, it was almost the last car in the lot. It seemed like a haven, already the closest thing to home I had in this damp green hole.

We got in the truck and Bella turned once more to look at me.

"Are you gonna tell me what that was about?" She demands and I turn to her.

"Edward Cullen," I tell her and I get the impression she knew that. "He just seemed to have a problem with me and I have no clue why."

Bella tries to comfort me as we drive off to get home.

***Twilight: Georgina Swan***

HPRANGER4EVER:

Hope you enjoy.


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